Cold Desert
by Acharya
Summary: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.  SW/Quinn, SI/Revel  Updated for title change!
1. I leave you with your misery

Prologue: Cold Desert

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Unbetaed, so all mistakes are my own. If you see them let me know and I'll fix them asap

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter One

I leave you with your misery

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Talaa brushed a strand of hair behind her ear then looked out of the window of the shuttle, watching the monotonous terrain race by beneath them. The shuttle was packed to capacity and smelled of unwashed skin and sweat and it was equal parts unpleasant and thrilling. Everyone here had fought to be on this shuttle, had scrapped and survived against sometimes overwhelming odds to earn the honor of being a part of the latest batch of acolytes sent to the Sith Academy.

Alaian snorted lowly and turned to look at her, eyes drooping as if he was fighting sleep. She could feel his energy radiating from him though she wasn't able to see it. Alaian claimed he could and she believed him, because he couldn't lie to her. He said her aura, as he called it, was a dark angry red and that his was a deep purple and that when they were close they mixed around the edges, melding and vanishing into each other. She could feel that she was stronger when he was near by to here, not only lending his power to her, but boosting both of them to be better than they were apart.

She touched his hand and for a moment she could sense the potential of everyone on the shuttle. They were a full group, destined to do what was needed until only one of them stood at the end, save her. She could sense the power in all of them, thrumming softly in their bodies, save the hooded figure sitting alone in the back of the shuttle.

Alaian murmured softly, just a few words, but to her it spoke volumes. He would keep his eye on that one if he was able and do his best to take him out of the trials early. And if he seemed to be a problem it was possible he'd have an unfortunate accident, preferably while Alaian was elsewhere.

She ended the contact, sensing they were about to land. He inclined his head at her then stood to move away. He was the first off and the moment he was gone one of the guards who'd sought her out to tell her she'd been called to the academy moved next to her. She was wearing an apologetic look and Talaa arched an eyebrow, wondering what was on the woman's mind.

"I'm sorry you had to sit next to that filth." The woman's voice was soft, as if sharing a secret with a friend. "I can't imagine why we're letting former slaves try to become Sith. The whole lot of them, slaves and trash. Disgusting."

"How appalling." Talaa said, frowning. She would find this woman and rip her heart out at a later date. She and Alaian had been hearing such things their entire life, having been born to a Pureblood family that had fallen into disgrace so long ago no one knew what the disgrace had been. They were servants, and had been for a long time, and their fellow Pureblood's looked at this with disgust. Barely above alien slaves, really.

Talaa suspected that was why she had so many siblings. Their parents, ever the social climbers, had hoped to have at least one child who could pull them out of their shame. They had an older sister who'd also come to the academy, but hadn't been heard from in over five years. Another sister had managed to marry a minor noble on some distant planet, but it hadn't done much for their standing. The other six were younger and only time would tell what became of them.

Her brother was still looked upon as a slave, had actually been called to undergo the final trials along with others of low birth, but Talaa seemed to have left her status behind when she stepped onto the shuttle. The guards seemed to know nothing of who she was and the other acolytes had gazed at her as if she was above them.

A very interesting development, to be sure.

The woman nodded, apparently appreciating Talaa's agreement. "Well. Good luck acolyte."

Talaa ran her fingers through her hair then stepped off the shuttle, saying over her shoulder. "Luck is for those who lack true power."

Alaian was off to the side, standing among a group of rough looking acolytes in front of a small angry looking human man.

"The rest of you gutter trash know your trials. Go, while I bring our latecomer up to speed." He was looking at her brother, who was staring back, clearly unimpressed. A slight redheaded girl said something to Alaian who smiled at her ferally. She blushed, holding up her hands as if in submission then hurried after the rest of the group.

"There is a hermit named Spindrall, living in the tomb of Ajunta Pall. He's a madman, but Lord Zash sees him as some kind of prophet. Once you find him he will test you." Alaian nodded, feral smile fading away. The Overseer sneered. "Go then slave, you know your trial."

"Acolyte Talaa." A dark skinned human was standing off to the side. "I am Overseer Tremel and I called upon you to undergo your trials early."

She came to stand in front of him and clasped her hands behind her back. "I see."

He took a moment to explain the trials to her, and her first trial in particular, ending with "These trials weed out the weak. Survive and become Sith, or die and be forgotten."

She nodded tightly, unconsciously mimicking her twin. Tremel stared down at her, eyes seeming to stare through her. "You have a question."

Talaa hesitated, not sure if sharing her inner thoughts was wise. But something about this man was soothing and almost fatherly. She could feel Alaian's touch, feather light, in the back of her mind. He was also curious and that helped make her choice.

"Why did you call me early?"

"Ah." He smiled thinly. "Because this is when you will be at the height of your power. I have been watching you and your twin closely, since you first came to my attention. When he was brought here I knew that both of you would fare better together, and potentially fail apart. For now you will keep your relation a secret, least your rivals see it as a weakness."

She nodded again. He stared at her, expression turning grim. "Work together for now, but learn to work apart. Only then will you both be able to grasp true power."

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Alaian was waiting for his sister just inside the tomb. He was leaning against a cargo box in close proximity to a solider, who kept sneaking nervous looks in his direction. Alaian was aware, though he gave no outwardly appearance of it. He glanced over his shoulder when she descended the stairs and the solider turned as well, starting visibly. Alaian smiled thinly, willing to concede that his sister had grown into a striking woman over time.

They were actually similar in appearance, sharing deep red skin, jet black hair, and faces that were ridged along the cheek and brow bones. They were both taller than most, though he stood above her, and were slight in build. She was more muscular than him, a body built for hand to hand combat, which was something she excelled at. Her hair was currently pulled into a tight tail, showing the jewelry that adorned her forehead and the golden cuffs on her ears. Her nose was pierced as well and held a gold ring; all of the items their mother claimed were passed down through her family and would bring good luck.

Alaian had similar ear cuffs, but in silver and without a supposed family history attached to them, and was pierced across the bridge of his nose. His hair was a touch on the long side, and worn pushed back from his face and behind his ears. He lacked the hard compact muscle of his sister, but instead had a lithe and more graceful build.

He pushed off the boxes, eager to hear how her encounter with her overseer had gone. He'd gotten impressions from here; a mix of doubt and skepticism. He'd sent back his own feelings, able to guess what she was wondering about, but beyond that he was in the dark. Their connection, though strong, was far from mind reading, though it did keep the exchange of words between them brief.

She fell into step with them and together they slunk into the shadows. The tomb, much like the desert outside of it, was crawling with K'lor'slugs, nasty creatures with a taste for flesh and venom in their bite. They clung to the darkness and could catch a person unaware or would swarm in large packs, killing and then eating their victims until not even bones were left. He'd heard stories of them making their ways onto ships and laying eggs in the dark recesses. The eggs would hatch and the young would crawl through the ship, seeking food where ever they could find it and leaving nothing of the crew behind.

Along with that were the looters, scrabbling about like insects as they tried to find things that they were hoping had been left behind during the occupation of the planet. There was little, if anything, to be found of course. The Republic had been very thorough in their destruction of Sith history and what they hadn't managed to crush to dust had already been found and archived when Korriban had been retaken.

Nonetheless the looters were there and they had to be on the lookout for them. Alaian's eyes adjusted for the gloom quickly, but he still opted to hug the wall. It certainly wouldn't do to get eaten or shot before he got to Spindrall after all. Some people may have called his cautiousness weakness or fear, but he preferred to think those people were the ones who died fastest. There was more to being Sith than brute strength and power and those who couldn't see that were doomed to become little more than sand.

Talaa heard something and he felt a spike of alarm in her. He stopped and squinted, trying to make out something other than pillars and crumbling walls. There was a pinprick of light in the distance, but it did little to illuminate his surroundings.

Talaa moved away from him, quickly being swallowed up by the blackness. He inhaled then exhaled slowly, pulling on the power inside of him. Purple sparks began to jump between his fingertips. He'd been honing his skills as best he could without training, learning to reach into himself and bring the power to the surface.

He saw them, a series of small red pinpricks peering out at the gloom. He thrust out his hand, forcing the energy out and aiming it towards the glowing red. An ear piercing shriek filled the tomb, followed by a dull thud. He was on to the next target before the thought that his first was dead sunk in, throwing out streams of purple energy. He could see the animal rear back and convulse, the lightening flowing from his fingertips illuminating the scene. He could see there were more of them, round mouths full of teeth that dripped with venom.

There was a roar, low and throaty and then his sister came arcing through the air, training saber drawn. She gripped it in two hands and swung, felling on slug and catching another on the upswing, gouging a hole and sending a spray of fluid over her face. She smiled, teeth gleaming, then went forward on one foot, swinging the saber in a punishing arch down onto one of the smaller K'lor'slugs, smashing it into pulp. Alaian turned from her and back to the matter at hand, rolling away as one of the beasts threw itself at him. He could smell the rancid murky smell of it's breath and had to hold down the urge to gag as he jabbed his saber forward. He whirled, launching another pulse of energy from his fingers.

Another slug fell and Alaian was dimly aware of a rank burning smell hovering in the air. Talaa seemed unconcerned, gleefully hacking her way through the beasts. He hung back, watching her with amusement. When she'd finished the group off she surged towards him, eyes wide and glittering in the darkness.

"Looters up ahead." And with that she was gone, running down the corridor. He could feel her battle lust, crashing into him hard enough to make his vision swim. They'd been side by side their whole life, fighting and even killing in each others company, and so he was used to her light touch in his mind. But there were rare moments, moments like this, where she could become an overwhelming presence, a force of nature demanding that he fell in line and follow her lead.

He could fight it, if he wanted, but why would he want to do that? Instead he sank into her feelings, letting them touch his own and feed them like fuel to a fire.

He ran after her, trusting himself to not trip over his own feet. The spot of light jumped in front of him, growing larger with each moment. He came skidding a halt next to Talaa, who was practically vibrating with excitement. They had stopped at the top of a flight of stairs which emptied down into a room that was milling with activity. Looters, all human by the looks of things, were moving under the bright lights of portable lamps.

Talaa tilted her head slightly and her hand brushed over his own. He stayed silent but she smiled at him again, a slash full of teeth, then launched herself forward, body a blur. He jogged after, taking a more normal route. He spotted a looter, a small dark-haired woman, with a vibrosword in hand. He grabbed at the force inside of him again then threw it out, smiling as the woman screamed.

He admired his sister and the way she used the force, which was in such stark contrast to his approach. He grabbed onto it, as best he could anyway, and tried to give it physical form and then wielded that form like a weapon. Talaa however kept the power inside, using it to change her body; it made her move faster, hit harder, and feel less pain. She swung and swayed, felling the looters with a large smile on her face. She glowed, a red light encircling her body, tendrils around the edge moving to and fro as if dancing.

A larger looter pushed his way into the fray and pulled back before slapping his sister, the sound of flesh on flesh echoing in his ears. She drooped, visibly dazed. Alaian was next to her before he realized it, hands making contact with the man's chest. He was angry now, rage a cold hard ball in his stomach, and he drew on it. His hands sparked brightly and the man's face twisted in pain. He screamed, the noise muffled by the pounding of blood in Alaian's ears. He pushed harder, wanting to hear the man's pain, and pained shrieks swelled, filling the room.

He let his hands drop to his side, seething. Talaa straightened up, shaking her head as if to force it to clear. Her eyes darted around as she wiped at her mouth, stained with her own blood. Alaian looked too, surprised to see that all of the looters were on the ground, more than a few with scorch marks on their bodies. There had been about a dozen in all and the ones Talaa had decimated laid in an almost neat pile at their feet, bodies ruined by her blunt weapon.

She bounced on the balls of her feet. "Hermit now?"

"I don't think we can kill the hermit." He stepped over the pile, pausing to snag a portable light from the top of a crate, turned down a hallway.

"Oh." Talaa fell back into step behind him, once again wiping at her mouth. "That guy got me good."

He grunted, feeling strangely empty as his rage drained away. "You'll have to be more careful. You can't fight the Republic or Jedi if you can't manage to keep a looter from knocking you senseless." Hell, she wouldn't survive against her fellow acolytes like that.

Then again neither would he if he lost awareness of his surroundings like he just had every time he was angry. He'd done some serious damage, he supposed, but he'd left himself open for attack to do so. They were both guilty of dropping their guard and in less 'playful' circumstances that could get them killed.

Talaa scoffed. "I don't need to be careful 'Lain. You're careful enough for both of us."

He rolled his eyes. Maybe he really was the smart one.

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Next Chapter: Spindrall, the armory, Vemrin, and Ffon.


	2. Pushes out this breath

Prologue: Cold Desert

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter Two

Pushes out this breath

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Alaian descended into Spindrall's 'home', a calculating expression on his face. Other acolytes, all clad in robes and on their knees, filled the room and he could feel their eyes on him as he walked past them. Talaa stayed at the bottom of the stairs, twirling her training saber anxiously. They'd made short work of the rest of the tomb, the woman cutting down slugs that crossed their path. He'd allowed it, too busy trying to fight off the bone-deep weariness that was slowly creeping it's way through him to put up any protest.

Spindrall rose from his crouch and turned to face him, robes flowing around his body as he did. "Slave, welcome to my humble home. You are here for your trial, yes. Learn the ways of the Sith from a muttering old man in a tomb."

Alaian was taken aback, not sure what to make of the old man. He had power, yes, but Alaian couldn't see his aura to even begin to consider it. The old man smiled, showing off rotting teeth.

"You have the power of true sight, but it is raw and weak, untrained. You won't be reading anyone with any actual ability, so I suggest you save it for your fellow acolytes."

He scowled down at the hermit, a flush of embarrassment racing up his body. "My trial then."

Spindrall laughed, harsh voice bouncing off the walls, before gesturing at the kneeling figures. "These are failed acolytes. They would kill you for your spot without thought and so you must be willing to do the same. The girl isn't to help you."

With that Spindrall turned from him and returned to his kneeling position. Alaian drew his training saber, eying the six figures warily. Their power was also hidden to him and, he had to confess, it put him on edge. He was used to the world being a kaleidoscope of color, but it was becoming clear that he wouldn't have that to fall back on anymore.

At least he'd been able to read the rest of his group.

The first two acolytes rose, weapons drawn. He threw his energy at the first, sending the man to his knees with convulsions. The second he focused on, pouring lightening into his body. The acolyte didn't scream but instead tried to force through the pain to get close enough to strike him. Alaian was able to duck a swipe from the first, now recovered acolyte and catch him in the gut with his own weapon. The third was rushing him and held up his weapon to block the incoming swing, arms screaming with pain as the force of the other acolytes blow ran through him.

Talaa stirred by the stairs, posed to jump in should he look like he couldn't hold his own. She was pacing back and forth, every bit a caged and furious animal. Her anger reached for him, adding to his own. He pushed back and knocked the acolyte back a few paces. The other three were up and creeping closer, each desperate for the killing blow. They wanted what was his and he would be damned before he left any of them have it.

The tiredness in him faded, forced down by determination. He slammed his hands into the ground, using it to channel like he used his hands. His attackers were thrown to the floor, caught by surprise as the ground heaved beneath their feet. He was up and on one of the prone forms before any of them had recovered, bringing his weapon down with all the strength he had. The next two fell easily, still dazed after being thrown off their feet. The last was up and staring at him, fear and panic warring on his face.

"You can keep your spot." The acolyte was backing away towards the stairs. "I don't want to die, I just want off this rock."

"Ok." Talaa shoved her saber through the acolytes chest, lips twisted into a mocking smile. The man slumped forward and the weapon slid out with a wet noise. She held it up to her face thoughtfully. "Hn. Cracked it."

He tossed a glare in her direction but she just shrugged, not looking the least bit contrite. Not that she would, Talaa didn't know the definition of the word. He stepped over the fallen men and returned to the hermit, who was starring at him, eyes dark and impossible to read.

"I suppose it will do." The old man said finally. "Listen acolyte, and remember these words. _Peace is a lie, there is only passion. Through passion, I gain strength. Through strength, I gain power. Through power, I gain victory. Through victory, my chains are broken. The Force shall free me._"

Alaian shivered.

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Talaa looked down at the training blade that she'd 'borrowed' from one of the dead acolytes in Spindrall's lair, all too happy to be rid of it and pick up something a little more...substantial. She glanced back to look at her brother who, without picking up his head, raised a hand to indicate that he was at the very least still breathing.

Alaian had finished talking to the weird old man then followed behind her slowly, until the got to the armory. He'd sat at the entrance, leaning against the wall and just...deflating. She'd hovered over him for a few minutes, worried in a way that she only felt for her twin. She could feel her tired he was and knew he was conscious by sheer force of will alone. They'd been at this for a few hours and already they'd both pushed themselves harder than they'd ever needed to before. She hid it better, but she wondered if that was because she used her abilities less...externally than 'Lain opted to.

"Go get your fucking sword." Alaian grunted. "The sooner you're done the sooner you can carry me out of here."

She'd smirked then bound into the room, eying the powered down droids suspiciously. They didn't stir as she moved past them, but she found something about them made her very uneasy. They weren't here for no reason, that much she was sure of.

Still, as she came to a halt before a collection of gleaming swords she let her concern fall away. She put her hand out and let it drift over the assembled weapons before drawing one carefully. She gripped it with both hands, testing the weight of it, then nodded in satisfaction. It would do nicely.

Now, to bloody the thing.

A sound, like something powering up, was followed by an annoyed curse from Alaian. She turned in time to see that some of the droids had come to life and had set their sights on her twin. She growled, gripping the hilt of the weapon tightly. This seemed like it would be amazing practice.

She threw herself forward, trusting that she would land where she needed to be, and deftly removed the head from one of the droids closest to Alaian, who couldn't be bothered to stand up. Instead he just rolled his eyes at her. She heard more of the things powering up behind her and smiled.

She'd been bone tired a moment ago but now that the fight was on she could feel power flowing through her body, setting her skin aflame. She roared, a noise that would have made a living enemy consider it's actions, then jumped and struck the ground with her fist, mimicking something she'd seen Alaian do earlier. The ground cracked beneath her fist then shattered from the force of her blow, sending her enemies crashing to the ground. It didn't take much more to dispatch her enemies.

When she was done she stood over her twin, smiling widely. Blood dripped down her arm in thin rivers and her knuckles looked utterly ruined, but there was no pain, only power, and the red film of rage over her eyes.

He smiled back then thrust up his hand. She grabbed it, shivering as a chill began to creep its way into her from where their hands clasped. She breathed out, become calmer with every moment, and hauled him to his feet.

"Lets get out of here."

"But I have yet to bloody my blade."

He sneered at her. "I'll let you kill everything we see on the way out then."

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Talaa separated from her twin once the academy was in sight. They agreed to meet up in the morning, for the next set of trials, and then he wandered away from her. She made her way to where Tremel had indicated he would be, staring in awe as she made her way through the academy. It was sight to behold; all dark stone, banners four times her size, and statues that seemed to crackle with power. Other Acolytes and overseers milled about, a few nodding acknowledgment as she passed. She was among peers now, and she vowed to herself that she would make sure that all of these people were beneath her and Alaian soon enough.

She turned down a hallway, noting two men of about her age standing a few meters ahead. The larger men nudged his friend and nodded in her direction. She frowned, instantly on edge. She could trust no one, except for her brother, and as tired as she was she would happily cut down anyone who threatened her. She would not, in respect of the rules, be making the first move.

She'd have to learn to curb her temper, for now.

That thought in mind she descended the stairs, not surprised when the slightly man called out to her.

"Hey there, acolyte, let me get a look at you."

She smiled. "Most men at least tell me their names before making such requests."

Much to her delight he actually went pink all the way up to the tips of his ears before forging on as if she hadn't spoken. "So you're Tremel's secret weapon then? Impressive to be sure, but I'm afraid the old man has waited too long to make his move. I'm Vemrin and unlike you I've fought and bleed for everything I have. I demand respect."

Talaa arched an eyebrow and her fingers itched for her new blade. Perhaps it wasn't bloody enough. "Are you saying I haven't fought to get here?"

"Please, everyone knows what Tremel is doing." Vemrin scoffed. "Perhaps if he had brought you in a year ago, when I'd first arrived, you might have had a chance, but now it's too little too late."

Talaa hummed softly and allowed her mind to slide to more amusing thoughts. Vemrin was far more boring than he had hope. He had a pale throat and a weak neck. She would be able to snap it with ease, or perhaps slit it and bring a little color.

"This is stupid Vemrin!" The large oafish man at his side declared. "Let's just kill her and hide the body!"

Talaa perked up. This one was far more interesting. Vemrin however waved his hand dismissively, disappointing Talaa even further. He was shaping up to be extremely worthless.

"We aren't on Balmorra anymore, Dolgis. There are rules. Traditions. We'll leave the shortcuts to Overseer Tremel and his last pathetic hope here."

Talaa smiled pleasantly. "I'm going to crush you, take what's yours, and then kill you. And your friend, I suppose, if he wants."

Vemrin rolled his eyes, seemingly unimpressed. Talaa pouted. "You have no idea the enemy you're making. Coming Dolgis?"

"In a moment Vemrin." The large man was glaring down at her, clearly lacking his friends restraint. Talaa bounced on the balls of her feet, allowing herself to become hopeful. Vemrin nodded and strode away, bumping against Talaa as he went. Once they were alone Dolgis strode forward, invading her personal space. Her heart began to beat faster.

"Acolyte aren't allowed to murder each other here, but it's only murder if there are witnesses." She agreed, actually. "No more warnings and no more threats. Vemrin is Alpha here and if you want to survive you'll stay out of his way."

Talaa leaned in, slow close that someone might have mistaken what was going for a romantic moment. His breath hit her lips and she couldn't help but note the sour smell. "So. We won't be fighting right now then?"

He shoved her back into the wall but she caught the nervous look in his eyes. He walked away and she followed him with her eyes until he rounded the corner. So much for that.

Vemrin. How oddly close to vermin.

She finished her trek to the Overseer's office, casting her eyes on the girl he was talking with. She was a tiny thing with dark skin and dark eyes, with a slight resemblance to Tremel. A new player perhaps?

Tremel held up a hand to silence the girl when Talaa entered. "Ah, you've returned. You seem to be in one piece. Tell me, how do you like your new blade?"

Talaa removed the blade from it's place on her back and smiled slightly. "I hope it's thirsty. I will be drowning it in the blood of my enemies."

"What are you doing father!" The girl demanded, glaring at Talaa with surprising heat. The scars over her eye, three long lines that looked to be made by claws, seemed to raise up in response to her anger. "I've only just gotten my warblade and I've been here six months."

Tremel frowned slightly. "I have my reasons Eskella and you will not breathe a word of this to anyone, is that clear?"

"Yes, yes father." Eskella said, voice sullen. "I will keep my silence about your new charge, but I won't be around when it blows up in both of your faces." She cut her eyes over at Talaa one last time then stormed form the room, clearly still very upset.

"Don't mind her, she's just upset I'm keeping secrets. She growls but she is loyal." Tremel scrubbed a hand over his face and she wondered who exactly he was trying to convince: her or him. "Now, I thought I heard Vemrin's voice. Has he made his move so soon?"

Talaa shrugged. "I was unimpressed."

"Do not underestimate him. He is mixed blood, a sign of how relaxed admission has become in the search for sheer numbers, but he is smart. While you yourself are of...unfortunate birth, you are at least Sith. People like Vemrin are an invisible rot that eat away at the power of the Empire."

Talaa wasn't sure what to make of that and instead nodded slowly. "So you're an elitist snob."

Tremel's lips switched up into a smile. "You say that as if it is a bad thing when really it's just the Sith way. The strongest survive and the weak are culled." He clasped his hands behind his back and began to pace the room. "Unfortunately Vemrin had caught the eye of Darth Baras, one of the most influential Sith Lords. He's being groomed to be Baras' new apprentice and with that kind of power at his fingertips he could change the Sith for the worse. This is why I must act now, and why you will move on to your second trial tonight."

She nodded again. She wanted to rest but she also understood that a Sith must be prepared to continue on in even the worse of circumstances and power through fatigue and mortal wounds in the name of their cause.

"There are three prisoners upstairs and you will be deciding how they will be sentences. Listen to each story carefully because your decisions will be scrutinized. Let your passions guide you."

"Of course."

"When you are done you will report to Overseer Ragate. She is...an interesting woman, but old and powerful. You would be wise to listen to whatever she predicts for you."

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Talaa stood in front of the old woman, Alaian at her side. Ragate looked first at her then at her twin, before offering a slow dark smile. "You've been sent for the ritual of blood and bone. Someone must think highly of the two of you indeed. I see much strength and potential, but we will see if you are worthy."

She made a gesture for them to follow then started down a corridor. It wasn't a long one and they come to their destination, a large stone door, just barely cracked upon, quickly. "Through here you will find ritual chamber. You will travel to the back and retrieve a skull from the bone pile."

Alaian lifted his chin, eyes gleaming. "That's the bone, but where is the blood?"

"Clever cruel child." Ragate laughed, apparently delighted by the question. "One of you will retrieve the skull and the other will submerge it in the blood pool. From there we shall see how you fare."


	3. Don't Try to Scream Out

Prologue: Cold Desert

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter Three

Don't try to scream out

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"Ffon huh?" Talaa repeated the name, a small smile playing on her lips. "Would you like me to crush his skull for you?"

Alaian had been recounting his experience with his overseer, which had resulted in the death of Acolyte Kory and the introduction of Ffon to the group. He smiled down at his sister. "No need. Besides, aren't your hands full enough with Vermin?"

"Vemrin." Talaa corrected lightly. "And no. I told you, it was sadly boring."

Talaa considered anything that didn't end in bloodshed boring, so he decided to keep his silence. Instead he inclined his head towards a set of stone stairs leading up to an alter covered in, unsurprisingly, skulls. They hadn't been in the chamber long and had already passed what he assumed was the pool of blood. They'd had to put down a few angry beasts on their way through, but nothing he would consider all that challenging.

Then again his last trial had also lacked challenge. Tormenting someone to extract information wasn't hard, though he supposed there was a kind of art to knowing when to press forward, when to draw back, and when to throw them off with requests to sing. He was sure he didn't have all of the nuances of being an Inquisitor down yet, but that didn't change that shocking one acolyte already on the cusp of breaking wasn't exactly complicated.

Talaa bound up the stairs and grabbed a skull. She brought it up to her face and examined it close, turning it over in her hands as she did.

"Looks human."

"Fascinating."

She didn't seem to notice the condescending tone of his voice, or more likely didn't want to give him the satisfaction of appearing to care. She met him at the bottom of the stairs and pressed the skull into his hands, smiling at his grimace. He had no problem with blood and viscera, but something about dealing with those dead before he arrived made him a touch squeamish.

Perhaps it was the stories their father had told them of his brief time at the academy. Not as an acolyte of course, not in the man's wildest dreams would he have been worthy, but as a cleaner. When the first waves of low breeds, slaves, and half-bloods had streamed into the academy they'd died in droves and members of the slave caste had been brought in to dispose of the bodies; burning them, dismembering them, feeding them to the animals, or just dragging them far into the desert to be picked apart by scavengers...whatever it took to be rid of the failures. Their father had claimed that sometimes he'd come across an acolyte who wasn't all the way dead and that, while transporting them to be burned or otherwise disposed of, he could often feel their life force leaving their body.

Even now the thought made Alaian nervous. Who was to say how many restless spirits roamed a place like this, disembodied and impotent as they watched the living continue on as if they'd never existed. Full of rage but as pitiful in death as they'd been in life.

He followed Talaa back to the blood pool, his sister's gleeful whooping as she slaughtered the chamber's beasts falling on death ears. Talaa stopped on the edge of the pool, placing her weapon on her back as she did, and looked at him expectantly.

Alaian waded into the pool, which wasn't as deep as he originally thought. Blood lapped at his calves, ice cold and thick, but he bent down and submerged the skull and his arms as deep as he could. For a moment nothing happened and Talaa made an impatient noise next to him.

"That's it? What kind of-"

The chamber shook, silencing his sister. Alaian frowned, feeling the blood around him begin to churn. The skull in his hands was abruptly torn from his hands by an immense suction and he reared back, thinking that he should probably get out before he joined it. The blood began to swirl and come together in the center of the pool and, before their eyes, took on a form. Talaa gripped his shoulder and yanked him back. He fell, rather gracelessly, onto his ass.

Her weapon was in hand and her teeth were bared. The thing in the center roared and gnashed it's mouth, a gaping round hole full of razor sharp teeth.

It was a 'Slug, at least three times larger than the ones they'd encountered in the tomb. It's whole body dripped with blood, adding to the frightful appearance.

Talaa swore then, visibly steeling herself, charged in. She brought her sword down fast and with enough force that a wet squelch rang out. She had pierced skin and the beast reared back in pain, screaming it's rage before striking. It hit her hard and Alaian swore he heard the cracking of bone. Worse than that it sent her flying back into the pool; she vanished under the rippling blood.

He held his breath, expecting her to emerge immediately, after all the pool was shallow, but the surface went still and the presence she usually held in his mind went silent. It hurt, like someone stabbing something into his skull, but he shook his head to clear it.

He wanted to reach out for Talaa and drag her from wherever the beast had thrown her, but he knew it would have to wait. He forced the panic that was threatening to break through and drown him to power him, drawing on the emotion to once again force the fatigue from his limbs. His body felt cold suddenly and the chamber unbearably hot.

The beast shrieked again and began to move towards him. It was big and slow, probably in part to the large leaking wound in it's side, and Alaian knew how to make it suffer.

Alaian pushed up to his feet, but stayed crouched, and eyed the monster. It lunged and he rolled, claws cleaving the air where he'd just been. He struck out, slamming his hand into the wound as deep as he could, stopping only once he was elbow deep in wet stinging flesh. The thing roared and thrashed, trying to dislodge him.

Alaian wrapped his hand around something vaguely sphere shaped, not sure what he'd managed to locate and not caring. He pushed out, sending power flowing directly into the beast. It jerked violently even as it began to crumple. A claw grazed his ribs but he held tight, squeezing. Purple electricity arced through the beast and then back to Alaian, hitting his skin and then seeping back in.

When the thing had stopped twitching he pulled his arm free, frowning at the angry red blisters beginning to form. He didn't dwell on them, instead hurrying back to the pool and dropping to his knees at the edge. He thrust his arm in, suppressing a groan of pleasure as the cool blood flowed over his skin. He should have hit bottom without issue but instead he was grasping around and feeling nothing. He leaned further in, blood now seeping over his shoulder, seeking Talaa.

Something warm brushed his fingertips and he grasped it. For a moment nothing and then it held back, long fingers curling around his palm. He pulled and slowly, painfully slow, he pulled his sister to the surface. When her head broke through she gasped hugely, mouth a dark hole amongst the red clinging to her skin. She slumped down partially on top of him, breathing hard. Then she giggled and looked up at him, a smile he could only call impish firmly in place.

"Look what I found." The hand he wasn't holding thrust itself up in the air, skull gripped tightly. He shoved her away, disgusted. She laughed again then nodded at the dead beast. "Looks like you didn't need me anyway."

They collected themselves and shuffled out of the chamber. They were both soaked, Talaa from head to toe and him almost there as well, and stained with streaks of blood. Overseer Ragate was waiting where they'd left her and was smiling wickedly when Talaa shoved the skull in her direction.

"I heard the screams shyracks, the rippling of the blood pool, and the moans of the blood fiend as it died in pain." She seemed much younger now, the years wiped away by her joy in the death they had wrought. "This skull is now painted by your actions, your rage, and is very much a part of both of you. Your futures are linked, for now, and so I can catch a glimpse, if you so desire."

Talaa shrugged and Alaian nodded his approval. The woman closed her eyes for a moment then opened them again, staring at his sister solemnly. "The key to your success is a small and sorry creature, but you can shape it in your image, if you so desire. And you, boy, beware the shadow killer. It can be bound, but never controlled."

"Now, listen to me closely acolytes. There are many kinds of Sith, and many ways to access and gain power. None are wrong so long as they work, but there will come a time when you will choose an area in which to focus your strengths." The Overseer set the skull aside then rubbed her hands over the sides of her robe, leaving smears of blood on the fabric."I will explain these areas to you so you may make informed choices. It would be foolish to let such potential go to waste."

"What if I don't want to choose one area?" Talaa asked, eyes narrowed. "It sounds limiting, and I will not be limited."

"You must first learn to excel in one before taking on all things, child. You aren't any good to the empire if you are mediocre at all things instead of focused in one." Talaa looked like she wanted to argue but a sharp look from Alaian moved her to silence. He wanted to hear what the old woman had to say; his sister should argue over whatever points she wanted later. Ragate started, voice taking on a strange melodic rhythm.

Sith Warriors, she said, were the front line of the Sith Empire and masters of the battlefield. They channel the force into themselves, bolstering their strength while purging weakness. The more fury they have, the more unstoppable they become. They were beserkers, feeding on fear, anger and hatred to crush their foes.

The Warrior splits into two basic specializations as far as training went, though the line was less clearly defined when it come to battle. Juggernauts, who stood in the middle of battle and absorb damage for their allies. They used to force to deny pain, shrugging off attacks that would shatter lesser beings and continuing the fight with even mortal wounds, persisting through hatred alone. With true mastery of the force they could learn to use terror and despair to paralyze their enemies or turn their abilities to taking on the damage their allies would suffer.

The other side was the Marauder, who dealt not in the brute strength and crushing blows of their fellows, but in blinding speed, accuracy, and brutal efficiency. They used the force to know their enemies every weakness before the first blow ever landed and to see the best place to land their blows to destroy their enemy with ruthless speed.

Here she looked at Alaian pointedly then began to speak on Inquisitors. They were masters not in physical combat, but in outwardly wielding the force. They could use if offensively, conjuring impressive lightning displays or storms of force power onto their foes or instead draining the life from others to heal themselves and those around them.

Assassins operated in the shadows. They shied away from the open battles that Warriors excelled in, using speed and stealth to infiltrate and destroy. They could leave their enemies dead before anyone even knew they were there and retreat to the shadows before the body hit the ground. This wasn't to imply they were physically weak or unable to participate in face-to-face battle; with an arsenal of force tricks and the ability to weaken enemies with the force they were as formidable as a warrior.

This left only the Sorcerer, who trained to express the raw power of the force through arcane means, delving into rituals and 'spells' to supplement the more modern force techniques. They brought devastation where ever they went, but could also use the power to heal and protect. Only the most dedicated could hope to master the art of Sith Sorcery, as it took years of study and research to scratch the surface of the power one could find there.

With that Overseer stopped, looking at the both with shrewd eyes. "I have given you much to think on, I'm sure. It is late and your trials will begin early, so you should rest and regain your strength now."


	4. Want this one to Hurt

Prologue: I Love the Light

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidge of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter Four

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Talaa waited as what was left of her brother's group streamed out of Overseer Harkun's office, trading looks with the man she now knew as Ffon as he strode pass. The arrogance was like a physical presence around the man and something about it set her teeth on edge. He seemed less inhabited, eyes roaming her form with obvious interest. She scoffed then, seeing Alaian coming up the passage, dismissed him from her mind.

"I have need of you." She said, infusing her words with the superiority that she supposed would come naturally if she's actually been born among the upper caste. Alaian quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Perhaps we can talk on my way to the training rooms?" She nodded and fell into step with him as they headed for the stairs. She kept her voice low, but her expression lofty.

"I have been ordered to kill Overseer Tremel by Darth Baras."

Alaian's eyes slide over to her, lips curving into a frown. "Hmm. Darth Baras is a smart man, clearly. If I understand the situation properly this result in Baras winning, no matter the outcome. Either Tremel will die, thus eliminating him as an barrier or you will die, thus destroying Tremel's plan. So simple, yet foolproof."

"You're impressed."

"I am. Brazen power plays are easy but tend to explode, as your overseer is learning. Manipulating your enemies into destroying each other while you sit, hands clean, takes more thought." Alaian turned into what Talaa assumed was the training room then stopped in his tracks, causing her to run into his back. "Case in point."

Talaa peered over her brother's shoulders, arching an eyebrow at the two men standing inside. She'd seen them around, knew they were part of the group her brother was in. They were older than she and Alaian, and their faces were pale, pockmarked, and just generally unattractive.

"Balek, Wydr. I am strangely unsurprised to see you." Alaian clasped his hands behind his back and his tone was light, but tight with fury. "Did Harkun tell you he'd...help you become Sith if you killed me? Move you back to a group where you didn't have to compete against Ffon?"

"We don't like this any more than you." The man on the right said, sincerity coloring his words.

"Now now, you really don't know whether I like this or not." Her brother's voice rose suggestively and Talaa rolled her eyes. This was hardly the time.

The other men held out a hand to stop the flow of her brother's words. "I'm sorry about this Alaian, really. I liked you, I did, but Harkun promised we could go home if we killed you."

"Pathetic." Talaa stepped from behind her brother fully, arms crossed over her chest. "They didn't even bargain to become Sith but to be allowed to go home with their tails between their legs."

"This doesn't concern you girl." The man on the left said, scowling at her. Talaa smiled.

"Surely you don't think I'll just let you try to kill my brother and not get involved." Her weapon was in hand and the excitement of impending battle was coursing through her veins.

The two men exchanged looks, unspoken words flowing between them, then lunged forward. The one of the right crashed into her, flattening her with his far superior weight. The other went for Alaian who ducked to the side then grabbed his attacker's arm, lightning already dancing between his fingers.

Talaa hit the ground, air pushed out of her body. She growled and tried to lever the man off of her, the expression the man was wearing (A mixture of lust and rage) only angering her further. She narrowed her eyes then brought her knee up between the acolyte's legs, feeling gratified as his eyes widened then went watery.

She's always thought it was poor evolutionary design for men to keep their most sensitive areas dangling on the outside, but she couldn't deny it worked in her favor. She ground her knee up and forward, putting all of her strength behind it. Alaian's shadow fell over her. He hesitated for a moment and, wincing in sympathy, shoved the man off of her.

He made short work of his would-be-assassin, shocking him until far past death. The man's mouth was leaking blood as were his ears; not a very pleasant sight. She arched an eyebrow, surprised by the overkill. While her brother took pleasure in a fight much as she did, he had never been one to...mutilate a corpse.

"You're ordered to kill an overseer and I'm playing with cowards! Am I not worthy of at least a real challenge!" He glowered darkly, the air around him shimmering with energy. "We'll have to do something with these bodies then we'll kill Tremel."

"Will we?" She poked at the dead body with her boot then sighed. "There's no other way? Tremel...I don't mind him."

"Don't get attached to anyone Talaa." Alaian's expression became grave. "Remember that, at the end of the day, they would all kill you to further themselves, even Tremel. You are just a means to an end for him."

He was right, of course. Tremel had his goal and Talaa was just how he intended to achieve that goal. If not her than perhaps he would have found someone else or gone about it in some other way but the point was still plain: it wasn't about _her_ it was about getting what he wanted.

"Let's be rid of him then."

They dealt with the bodies quickly, Talaa employing the aid of some Acolytes she's encountered earlier. They feared her, since she'd utterly bested them in combat and then ordered them away from fighting Vemrin, and were more than happy to get into her good favor.

Phyne lingered a moment, cheeks pink then blurted "Teeno is disappointed that you've found a boy so soon, he was hoping you'd consider him. But I say you've definitely found a more attractive option."

Talaa blinked slowly, brain taking a moment to catch up, before she chuckled. "Alaian you mean?"

"He's cute. Not that I would mean to challenge you for him, of course. Just saying."

She laughed again, swallowing the urge to tell Phyne that Teeno was more up Alaian's alley, and instead clapped the girl on the back in a parody of friendship. Phyne winced but her smile stayed firmly in place. The girl scurried off after that to help the other acolytes with their body disposal and Talaa began to walk to path to Tremel's office, probably for the last time.

She wasn't going to enjoy this and already the gravity of the situation was forming a heavy weight in her stomach. The short walk felt like a mile and more than once she considered turning back but, in the end, she found herself standing before the man who had brought her to the academy, proclaiming that she'd been sent to kill him.

Tremel leaned back in his chair, a wan smile curving his lips. "Then I have been outplayed. Baras has the authority but I didn't think he would be so brazen. Either I die or he forces me to kill you. Masterfully played."

"So I've been told." Talaa said sullenly. He smiled almost kindly as he rose to his feet.

"Well, you have your orders, but I will not be making this easy for you. Know it will give me no pleasure to kill you."

She nodded tightly. "Likewise."

Tremel made the first move and was on top of her faster than she could track. He threw her into the wall and pain screamed its way up her back, clearing her mind like nothing else could. She was on her feet and going for him with fast hard attacks, channeling her anger at being manipulated into each strike. Tremel returned in kind and every time their weapons clashed he threatened to drive her to her knees.

They continued to trade blows and each time their weapons met she felt her teeth rattle from the force. Tremel struck out with his hand, catching her in the side of the head. Her vision went black for a moment and when it cleared she was only just able to knock aside a blow that seemed aimed to take her arm off. She ground her teeth together and wished the sudden ringing in her ears would stop.

He swung again and this time caught her in the shoulder, blade biting into flesh. It hurt only in a distant way, an insistent tickling under her skin, but she knew that a lack of pain meant nothing. She was injured and an injury would be her undoing. She would fall here, so close to her goal.

She was going to fail.

She screamed, fury and despair welling up in her throat and demanding an outlet. Tremel's eyes widened and then he clutched his head, staggering away from her. She closed her mouth and, never one to allow an advantage to go unused, thrust forward with her blade. It sank into Tremel's stomach easily and when she withdrew a flood of blood followed her weapon.

She put a hand to her head, drawing in fast shaky breathes. Emotions were running through her, threatening to take over, and she was drowning. She felt like she needed to sit down or else her legs would give way, but she was rooted to the spot.

"Such power." Tremel's voice was faint. He fell to his knees. "I had no idea."

That made two of them. She watched as the man slumped the rest of the way to the ground, life draining out of him to form a dark stain on the carpet. She rubbed a hand over her face again, then bent down next to the already cooling body. She needed his hand for Baras.

"Father!" Talaa cringed at the shrill voice, which seemed intent on shattering her eardrums. "Murderer!"

She stood slowly. "I liked your father and I killed him. I will not hesitate to do the same to you."

She expected a response but was rewarded with a halting croak. Curious she turned then started in surprise. Alaian was standing behind Eskella, the tip of his training saber jutting through her body, about where the girl's heart was. He shoved the human forward and she slid down the blade limply.

"I hope you don't mind." He flicked the blade, splattering the walls with red. His eyes were dark and strangely closed off. "But I thought killing Tremel would be fun enough that you wouldn't mind me taking the loud female."

She crouched back down, staying silent. She was tempted to ask where her brother had been during her fight but at the same time she appreciated being allowed to handle it on her own. She felt she...owed Tremel at least a fair battle.

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Alaian swore that if had to go spelunking through one more mouldering tomb...well, he wasn't going to do anything of course, except go through it. There weren't even any other acolytes left, aside from Ffon, to try and steal the map Lord Zash so desired from.

He smiled slightly at the thought of poor Ffon wandering through the tombs of Naga Shadow with only half of the information he needed to succeed. Hopefully the failed acolytes that inhabited the tombs wouldn't kill the other Pure-Blood; Alaian wanted that pleasure for himself. Thoughts of the look on Ffon's face when he finally struck him down lightened his mood and had him moving through the tomb with renewed vigor.

There was only one Rod left to deal with now and then he was sure he'd be all but home free. A strangely simple trial, since all he'd had to deal with were the failed acolytes and some defective droids thus far, but perhaps a more interesting challenge awaited him.

"I'll show her." An angry male voice made him stop short. It was coming from the chamber ahead of him so he made his next steps careful ones. "Baras will see, I won't just cast aside. My legacy will be secure! I shall be Sith!"

Ah, Vemrin. Alaian watched the human pace back and forth while considering the situation. The man was blocking his access to the last rob but he was willing to bet that Vemrin would make no moves to get in his way if he went after it. After all, they weren't in competition and the human was most likely indifferent to his entire existence.

Still, he was clearly plotting to ambush his sister and that wasn't the sort of thing Alaian could just let go by unpunished. But, and he couldn't just disregard this part, Talaa would probably pitch a fit if she found out that he had killed her rival.

This was quite the conundrum.

Ah well. He supposed the present he was saving for Ffon would serve here.

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Vemrin heard the attack a second before he saw the movement form the corner of his eye, a blur of black and red. He twisted away then cringed as he felt a sharp pain bloom in his side. He was surprised, having gone mostly unmolested by the wretched failures that called the tomb home, but he didn't let that work against him. He swing his blade at his attacker and the man fell back a few meters then began circling him carefully, just out of range of an attack.

"Coward!"

The Pure Blood smiled at him, a touch of recklessness in his eyes.

Vemrin kept his eyes on the man while reaching for his side. There was a small knife lodged in his side, not too deep and having failed to so much as graze anything important. It did bleed fiercely but, as Vemrin threw the knife aside, he decided that it was far from fatal.

"You should have been more silent. This is merely an annoying flesh wound."

"I suppose." The man had drawn his blade, one of the training sabers everyone received upon arrival and no match for Vemrin's warblade. He snorted then frowned, wondering at the sudden stinging pain in his side. Perhaps the wound had been deeper than he thought. Still, far from fatal.

"Well? Do you mean to fight me or not?" He demanded, not liking the way the man was watching him as if he were little more than an interesting bug.

The Pure Blood shrugged. "We can, if you think it's wise. I would think, with that K'lor'Slug venom beginning to take hold, you wouldn't want to move around too much."

"What?" Vemrin looked down at his wound again, horrified to find that it was beginning to seep green foam. "What is this?"

"It's something I was saving for someone else, a very concentrated dose of venom I collected from the Blood Fiend. Funny creature, even it's flesh burns." He lifted up his arm to show bandages, a stark white, wrapped from wrist to elbow. "I would have like to have shoved it into Ffon's spine but this is, somehow, even more satisfying than I think that would have been."

"After all," The Pure Blood frowned at him like a mother frowned at a child she was disappointed in.  
>"You wanted to kill my Talaa."<p>

Vemrin growled at the name of his rival, the bitch who had stolen what he'd worked so hard to achieve. And then she didn't even had the grace to kill him herself, but to send some lackey. This wouldn't stand.

"Of course. You're doing her dirty work. What _favors_ did she promise you? I shouldn't be surprised, she has the look of one who would spread at the promise of power." His assassin's eye twitched and Vemrin knew his words were having the desired effect. "Did she send you ahead because she's too busy under Baras?"

The man's face went blank then, with exaggerated slowness, he shrugged. "I couldn't tell you what's keeping her. But maybe you'll stay alive long enough to ask her."

With that he turned on his heel and made to walk away. Vemrin gripped the hilt of his blade, fury reaching a fever pitch. This coward meant to just walk away, to leave him here as if he weren't worthy of real combat? He refused to die in this dank tomb, poisoned and writhing in pain. He deserved more.

But...the pain in his side was growing from just a sting to what he imagined having a horde of inscets burrowing into his skin would feel like. He looked down again, dismayed to find the foam has now a murky brown, having mingled with his own blood.

When Vemrin looked back up he found his attacked was gone. He hesitated, mind screaming at him to follow. But which way? And to what end?

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Alaian whistled softly as he continued his trek. He had to admit, the tomb didn't seem nearly as bad as it had before he'd run across Vemrin. Talaa's way would be unhindered, allowing her to claim her place as Darth Baras' apprentice and he would get this map for Lord Zash and hopefully be completely done with such silly errand running. He would dare say he was feeling optimistic.

He rounded a corner then stopped, stomach dropping. He'd come into a chamber where the path become little more than a ledge he would need to carefully navigate. Beyond that there was a drop that looked like it may have been serious and, on a raised platform, a vicious looking creature. This must have been the one who was going to guide him to his goal; an ugly monster from what he could see.

He edged his way to the next chamber, finding a collection of statues that could only be supposed to hold the rods he'd gathered. He eyed them for a moment, mind flashing back to the instructions he'd gathered for placing them. Each rod had it's own statue and getting it wrong would have, most likely, dire consequence.

He placed the rods carefully then went to the raised platform in the middle. He was supposed to mediate on the force here and wait for some 'ancient power' to show him the way. He took in a breath then let it out slowly while bowing his head and closing his eyes. He cleared his head of all but the Sith Code.

"There is no peace, there is only passion. Through passion I gain strength."

Something rumbled then something crashed into him with the force of a bantha, leaving him breathless. The first hit was the worst of it, but whatever it was persisted, a steady shivering pain running through his body. He shoved the pain down; it was irritating but very manageable.

"Through strength I gain power." He was more prepared for the next hit, but with a second stream of energy added to the first he found himself swaying. "Through power I gain victory."

He fell to his knees, eyes tearing. What had been manageable turned out to be close to unbearable when it was multiplies by three. His fingernails bit into the soft flesh of his palm, drawing blood. "Though victory my chains are broken."

His eyes snapped open and he saw the last statue spit the same purple lightning he wielded with such joy at him. It hit him and he slumped forwards, screaming in pain. Had he set up the rods wrong? Was he just unworthy? Not of pure enough blood perhaps, or just not strong enough to endure this, because he was sure it was going to kill him.

Alaian picked his head up, staring at the door before him which stayed resolutely closed, mocking him and his weakness. And it made him angry, a cold spreading anger the began to numb him from the inside out. He would do this! He would open this door even if he had to destroy the entire fucking tomb to do it. He would not be denied!

He pushed himself up, eyes narrowed to slits then thrust his arms forward. He would not allow this energy to kill him; instead he would make it his. He twisted it and forced it back out through his hands and into the door. He gritted his teeth and became angrier with each passing moment the door remained closed. He pushed harder, harder than he ever had, and ordered the door to fall with his mind.

It didn't do that, but it did slide open. The statues went dormant immediately but he still found himself glaring at each one in turn before descended the stairs to enter the next chamber.

"The Force shall set me free, indeed."


	5. We Hit A Wall

Prologue: I Love the Light

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidgen of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter Five

We Hit a Wall

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Alaian peered up at the monster in front of him, not sure what to make of it. The thing stared down at him, face a mask of indifference. Maybe. He actually wasn't sure what the monster was trying to convey, if anything. He considered himself good at reading faces, yes, but this was asking for a whole different level of skill.

He allowed his vision to shift, the first time he'd done so since his encounter with Spindrall, and was unable to hold back the gasp of awe. It had one of the brightest auras Alaian had ever seen (thought he was aware now that his abilities were lacking and people could hide from his sight) a vortex of blue and black that pulsated out from the monster. It blotted out everything behind him and seemed as if it was swallowing everything it touched. The beast...smiled, but not in a pleasant way; Alaian shifted his vision back, oddly comforted when the world returned to normal.

"What are you?"

"Ha. All the world conspires to mock me!" The beast laughed again then turned his gaze heavenward. "Tulak Hord! I waited for you, I did everything you said, and this is what you send me? A tiny weak thing with the sight of a child?"

Alaian scowled. "I am not weak!" And he was pretty sure he didn't have the sight of a child. He wasn't sure exactly what that was supposed to imply, one way or another, but he didn't like it.

"Fate is cruel to me little one, but not as cruel as it is to you. You have made a terrible mistake."

"No." He shook his head; this was clearly where he was supposed to be and this was the Dashade he was meant to find. "There are the instructions Lord Zash gave me. I am to free you and you will take me to the map in the final chamber of the tomb."

"I am Khem Val, servant of Tulak Hord, who was called Lord of Hate, Master of the Gathering Darkness, Dark Lord of the Sith." The beast looked down at him again, dark eyes boring through him with the strength of a laser. "Together Tulak Hord and I devoured our enemies at the battles of Yn and Chabosh and brought the entire Dromund System to its knees. And now I await his return."

Alaian hesitated for a moment, not sure what to say to that. He knew his history, loved history actually, and he was all too aware of the power of Tulak Hord, and the devastation the ancient Sith had been able to bring upon his enemies. It was said he had used not only the force, but Fear itself to crush his foes. To be in the presence of one who had fought at his side was certainly...moving.

But this wasn't the time for hero worship.

"Tulak Hord is dead, Khem Val, and now you will answer to me."

"Ha!" Khem Val's bark of laughter sent a chill up Alaian's spine. You have awakened me, but I will not answer to you. You have made a grave mistake and waking me little Sith, for I hunger and now I will devour you."

Khem Val flexed and, with a outward burst of power, the field around him fell. Khem fell to the ground easily, drawing his weapon as he did. And indeed his eyes looked not only hungry, but also held the promise of pain and death.

"Oh."

He could tell that going toe to toe with Khem Val was going to be an exercise in futility so instead he threw out lightning, hoping to burn the beast down before it could reach him. He supposed it was a mark to his credit that Khem Val's progress to him seemed slow. Not nearly slow enough though and, worse than that, it didn't seem to be doing nearly the damage he would have liked.

Alaian stopped the stream, knowing he needed to gain more distance before the Dashade was on top of him. Khem Val rushed him and Alaian swallowed a surprised shout as he fell backward. Khem smiled, and Alaian was sure it was a smile this time, apparently thinking that he had won. Alaian thrust his hand forward, making contact with cool smooth skin, and Khem Val reared back with a roar of pain. His body jerked as paralyzing energy ran through him.

Alaian slammed his hands onto the ground and the Dashade was thrown away by the shock wave. Khem Val landed on his back, but was back on his feet quickly. Alaian was up as well and once again channeled lightning, pouring all of his fear into it. He had no doubt that if he lost this fight that Khem Val would stay true to his word and _devour_ him and he had no desire to be anyone's meal.

Khem was looking at him, eyes glittering viciously, as he once again surged forward. Alaian's mind raced as the beast loomed ever closer. He dropped the channel again, opting for short hard bursts until Khem Val was close enough to swing. Alaian fell back, but could hear the sword cleave the air where he'd just been, and draw his own weapon. He cursed the stupid training saber but used it to parry the next blow anyway, stomach dropping at the sound of metal twisting.

The damn thing wasn't meant to repeal the blows from a creature like Khem Val, that much was certain. He threw another shock of power with his free hand then ducked a swing of the Dashade's fist. This was exactly what he wanted to avoid, a head on confrontation. He'd dueled Talaa more than once growing up, test his strength against hers, but Khem Val was a warrior hardened by time who, clearly, knew his craft.

He was considering how to get behind the beast when a large hand caught him, landing palm open on his chest and driving all air from him. He bent over, trying to draw into suddenly useless lungs, and couldn't even begin to utter a protest when he found himself pulled in to a bear hug. Khem Val wrapped his arms around him and squeezed and Alaian made a noise he hadn't known he could make until that point.

The pain started in his back then radiated towards the front and he swore he could feel his ribs moving, grinding against each other as Khem Val's grip tightened. He coughed, wanting to do something but too busy trying to stop himself from falling headfirst into the blackness creeping over his vision.

"You will be the first of many I will devour in the name of my Master!"

Alaian would have rolled his eyes in he could. He had know the Dashade for less than fifteen minutes and he was already tired of hearing about Tulak Hord. Not that he wasn't still impressed but Tulak Hord was dead and he...well he wasn't.

He brought his head down as hard as he could manage and his vision went completely dark, but he also felt the crushing grip on his body loosen and heard Khem Val let out an annoyed 'oomph'. He could breathe, though painfully. He slammed his head into Khem Val's again, acutely aware of a warm wet trickle blooming on his forehead. He fell and hit the ground none too gently and began to scramble away, willing his vision to clear up.

"You're beginning to upset me." Indeed he sounded pretty furious, but there was also an undertone of pain to the monster's voice.

"Good." He could see again, though his eyes were watery and cloudy with what he was pretty sure was his own blood. Alaian started to rise to his feet shakily but once again found himself in Khem Val's grip. He was hauled up by his neck, much like one would hold a Manka kitten, and lifted so he was once again face to face with the Dashade.

Alaian reached out, desperation surging through him. He grabbed at one of the pillars that had, until a few moments ago, been part of the set up to keep Khem Val in stasis. He closed his hand, almost able to feel the smooth metal against his fingers and pulled. Khem didn't seem to notice; the beast drew in a breathe and Alaian saw a wisp of purple most peeling away from him and into Khem Val's mouth.

He could feel the effect immediately, a strange empty feeling in the pit of his stomach. He grunted, eyes flashing back the pillar that was now free of it's base and more or less firmly in his grip.

The pillar was three times Khem Val's size, and heavy, and hit the Dashade hard enough to send them both sprawling. It took a serious effort to not lose the pillar as he hit the ground but he managed to hold on, though it dropped out of sight for a moment. He hauled it back up, hand trembling, and moved it so it was hovering over Khem Val's prone form.

"Yield!" He wanted to use the pillar to smash the monster into a fine paste but he still needed that damn map. The look at Ffon's face had better be worth all of this trouble.

Khem Val rose to his feet, mouth bloodied. He eyed Alaian then eyed the object twisting above his head, threatening to fall on him at any moment. Finally the Dashade nodded. Alaian sighed and thrust the metal object away, letting it fall into the pit to the side of them. Khem Val snorted, a dark bitter noise.

"For now little Sith, you have my loyalty; you have bested me and I am bound to you. My master has been dead many years and I am weak now, but I will be stronger soon. I will feed and I will watch."

Alaian sat down heavily, raking his fingers through his hair. Lovely. He was tempted to use whatever resources he had left to shove Khem Val into the pit as well but, and he had to keep this in mind least he lose it, he still needed him.

"We will go for your map. It is guarded by a vicious monster, breed to be resistant to your form of attack."

Of course it was. He looked up at the Dashade, who'd crossed the distance between them and was looming over him in a way that made his stomach flip-flop. He needed to get that map, the sooner the better, but he wasn't ready to get up yet. Instead he leaned forward, resting his chin on his knees.

"You were draining my power from me."

"I intended to use your energy to heal myself." He wondered if Khem Val had a range of emotion beyond rage and indifference. "I devour force users completely, leaving not but bones. Their power, their life force, and their flesh feed my strength."

He pursed his lips, natural curiosity warring against tiredness and caution. "Can you teach me how to do that?"

Dark eyes glittered down at him with an emotion Alaian couldn't identify. Then a dark laugh. "Let us retrieve your map."

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"Ugh." Vette's nose wrinkled and she made a retching noise. Talaa chuckled then frowned slightly as she caught sight of what had upset her companion so much. They'd made their way through the tomb and the evidence that her brother had gone ahead of her to complete his own trial alone had been everywhere. The bodies of acolytes who'd failed and now hide in the dark, rather than face their shame and die with some semblance of honor, had littered their path.

Vette had remained silent the entire trip, other than muttering about Sith knowing how to throw a party after tripping over one body (an odd comment Talaa hadn't understood), and activated the necessary elements for them to proceed towards the ancient lightsaber. Talaa could understand why this most recent body had moved her to break her silence again.

Vemrin, and she knew it was Vemrin because that stupid haircut was far from common, was in the middle of the chamber, body pale and oddly bloated. He was face down in a puddle of thick brown, slightly foamy, sludge. Worse of all was the smell he was emitting; a sickly sweet odor like rotting fruit. Talaa frowned, oddly hungry.

She shook the feeling away, instead focusing on the disappointment at now having been able to kill the man herself. Still, dead was dead and as long as he was out of the way she supposed it wasn't overly important how it had happened or who had done it.

"And...there." Vette had, it seemed, gotten over her sudden bout of sickness and gotten back to work. Talaa looked up, watching as a section of the far wall slide apart to reveal yet another chamber. Vette dusted off her hands then placed her hand on her hips, beaming back at Talaa. "Not bad, huh?"

Talaa had decided rather quickly that she didn't mind the other girl. She'd given her jailor endless amounts of attitude, seemingly unconcerned about her precarious situation as a prisoner in the Sith Academy, but hadn't fought with Talaa at all. She could respect the fiery streak in the other woman and also appreciate that she hadn't seen fit to take out the anger she was surely feeling on her.

Talaa, being of the lower caste, had never believed that just because one was a slave or an alien or looked down upon didn't mean they had to accept their fate mutely. She certainly wasn't going to let being of low birth stop her.

The chamber was lined with statues carved into male humanoid firms and the strange crawling feeling of being watched came over Talaa. She frowned slightly then shoved it aside; what in the world could possibly be watching her in this place? Vemrin wasn't going to be bothering her anytime soon and anything that may have been in this chamber had died long ago.

It was simply the atmosphere of the place trying to affect her mind, playing tricks on her perception. She wouldn't allow it.

"Creepy." Vette's voice echoed in the chamber and the purple firelight caused strange shadows across her face. "Still, my best work I think. Not every day you get to manage something generations of Sith couldn't."

"It is very impressive Vette." Talaa agreed, smiling at her companions thunderstruck expression. "Aside from the part where you got caught, hauled to academy, and had a slave collar put on you, of course."

They were past the statues now and all that laid before them was a sarcophagus on a raised alter. More torches burned around it, with the same purple fire as the ones lining the chamber. A chill fell over Talaa.

"...Did you just make a joke?"

"It's possible. I have a very advanced sense of humor." Talaa said, but her attention wasn't really on Vette. She rolled her shoulders, trying to dispel some of then tension that was forming there, then ascended the alter.

There was a skeleton in the sarcophagus , clad in tatters of fabric that may have once been the traditional burial dress. The fleshless skull seemed to be smiling at her but she found her gaze quickly drawn elsewhere. A lightsaber hilt, a basic straight design with little ornamentation, made for function and not beauty, was tucked away with the skeleton. She reached her hand out and the hilt trembled from rising into the air, metal gleaming in the firelight.

It found its way to her and, as she closed her hand around it, she could feel the soft thrum of it's power. She smiled then powered it up; the 'swoosh' of it coming to life sending a thrill through her body. It was light in comparison to the warblade, but she could feel the power and darkness in it. This blade had already tasted blood and now that it was in her hands it would taste more.

She'd been known on Dathomir for her dueling ability, with one blade and two as well as exhibiting some ability with a pike, and she'd left many an arrogant idiot nursing a bruised ego. Every time she'd picked up a weapon she'd imagined it was a lightsaber and now, finally, it was.

A freezing blew past, ruffling hair as one on the alter winked out, sending dark smoke into the air. It hovered for a moment then began to move with purpose towards the statues. Talaa frowned.

"We should go."

Vette pivoted on her heel, not needing to be told twice. The Twi'lek was faster than Talaa would have expected, but she had a feeling that was for the better. The torches were going out as they ran, each one extinguishing faster than the one before. She could hear cracking, like the breaking of stone, behind her but she didn't stop to see what it was.

Vette cleared the door first then turned, eyes widening at whatever was behind her. Then she ducked to the side, out of sight. Something swiped at Talaa from behind and she felt thick fingers just miss the back of her neck.

She half-fell half-rolled out of the chamber, but was on her feet fast. She gripped the weapon in her hand, realizing suddenly that she couldn't well keep running. She turned, powering the lightsaber back up, and looked at what was chasing her.

There was a horde of dark faceless figures, at least twenty, on the threshold of the chamber, and they were all reaching for her. The one who had nearly grabbed her now laid on the floor, the upper part of it's body out of the chamber, a large smoking hole in the back of it's skull.

"I'm trying to shut the door!" Vette's voice was panicked and breathless. Talaa nodded tightly. She wasn't sure shutting the door would do much good at this point but, on the upside, she didn't think they'd be able to fit through more than 2 or 3 at a time, which would keep her from being utterly swarmed.

A jet of purple lightning crashed into the group, felling another one of her would-be-attackers, and Talaa could feel the cool presence of her brother tickling the back of her mind. She smiled.

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Vette wasn't sure what to make of the latest turn of events. One minute she'd been trying to force the mechanism in the monument back into it's original position to shut the doors on the advancing group and the next Talaa had been ordering her to leave it and shoot. The Sith, her new 'master', had went flying into the pack, followed by some vicious looking monster.

Another Sith, this one a male Pureblood, had come to stand next to Vette, offering a hand to bring her to her feet. She'd taken his hand, momentarily surprised by how frigid the man's skin was, and once she was on her feet he'd turned to join the fray. Vette had stayed back, choosing her shots, and placing blaster bolts between where she imagined the eyes would be on those things, if they'd had anything resembling eyes.

Talaa spun and danced her way through the horde, dodging attacks effortlessly while laying waste to anything that got into reach of her saber. The other Sith didn't draw his weapon at all, standing close to Talaa and sending streams of purple from his fingertips. They worked around each other as they'd always worked that way, Talaa never coming close to watching him with her blade or fists, and he never seemed in danger of hurting her either, lightning arcing all around her but never touching.

It was terrible but almost...beautiful at the same time.

And when it was over and a pile of bodies, at least twenty, lay at their feet, Talaa bumped her shoulder against the man's and flashed him an almost sweet smile. He reached out, tucking some of the hair that had escaped Talaa's ponytail back behind her ear.

Vette wasn't sure what to make of the display; Talaa was already challenging everything she'd thought she'd known about the 'cruel shadowy figures' who ran the Empire, and after being interrogated, tortured, and then put on display in a cage like an animal, Vette thought she was in a pretty good position to judge them.

But this woman, with her easy compliments and 'advanced sense of humor', had proved to be a surprise from the moment she'd had the jailor release Vette from her cage. She hadn't shocked Vette, hadn't even seemed like the thought had entered her mind, and even seemed to appreciate her help.. She'd even kind of hoped for a chance to shoot the woman in the back of the head and run, but at this point she didn't think she could. It'd be a total scumbag move and Vette was a lot of things, but she wasn't scum.

"Vette!" Talaa was walking to her, the man and the monster in tow. Vette holstered her blasters, not wanting anyone to get the wrong idea. "This is my brother Alaian and his..."

"I am Khem Val, servant of Tulak Hord." The thing said. Vette arched an eyebrow; she was pretty sure Tulak Hord had been dead for a very very long time.

"Lain, Vette helped me get my lightsaber." Talaa continued as if nothing strange had been said.

Alaian shoved his hood back, revealing an attractive Pureblood. He resembled Talaa to a degree, sharing the same dark almond shaped eyes, full lips, and thin nose, but she may not have guessed brother without being told. His face was sharp and angular, ridges a little more pronounced and he was built smaller. Talaa's face was round and pretty, features softer.

Vette smiled, never one to let an opportunity to charm a cute man pass. "Nice to meet you Alaian." She may have sidled up to his side and batted her eyes for effect. She could do subtle flirting of course, Vette was a woman of many talents, but when one was wearing a slave collar there wasn't much point to playing hard-to-get.

He eyed her critically then frowned at his sister. "Doesn't look like you gave her much choice in helping you."

Another surprise! A Sith who didn't approve of slavery? What next, hand holding and singing songs around a pile of burning bodies?

Talaa pouted. "I didn't put that thing on her."

The thing, a hulking monster with a row of dagger sharp teeth in it's mouth, grunted. "Enough talking, Little Sith. You promised I could devour the one you call Ffon once you return this map to your master."

"Right." Alaian smiled darkly, a total shift from the affectionate look he'd graced Talaa with before. "I'd hate to keep Ffon waiting."


	6. The Moving of the River

Prologue: I Love the Light

Author: Rochelle B/Acharya

In Game Classes: Fem!Sith Warrior (Juggernaut), Male!Sith Inquisitor (Sorcerer)

Pairings: Fem!Jugg/Malavai Quinn, Male!Sorc/Revel*

Warnings: Language, violence, blood, and all those other things that make dark side Sith dark side. *Also a healthy smidgen of homosexuality, so if that is the sort of things that offends you I'd back out now, I shall think no less of you.

Notes: Takes place in the same 'world' as another story I'm crafting, centering on the republic side of the games storyline, which follows another set of siblings. Here, however, we follow the Bl'agi twins, Talaa and Alaian, as they attempt to navigate the infighting and danger that comes with climbing the Sith power ladder.

Summery: She was the strong one, powerful and burning hot. He was the smart one, wicked and cold as ice. Together they will change the face of the Empire, or die trying.

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Chapter Six

The Moving of the River

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Khem Val looked disappointed, or at least Alaian thought the look on his face was disappointment. It was hard to say one way or another, really. For all he knew Khem could have been a great mood, but he seriously doubted that.

They'd returned to the academy and broken apart from Talaa and Vette. He'd been...hopeful that he'd finally get a chance to deal with Ffon but his hopes had been dashed fairly quickly. He had strode into Harkun's office, head held high in the way that only one who knew they'd succeeded could, and revealed that he had done with Ffon could not. It should have been a glorious moment, one of total victory over those who felt themselves above him, but instead it had quickly spiraled out of control.

"Impossible!" Ffon was livid, lips pressed so tightly together that his skin was beginning to go white around them."You...you filth! You've cheated somehow, had help! That girl I saw you with, obviously."

Alaian smiled pleasantly. "Are you angry that I beat you or angry that your sparkling personality means that no one except for Harkun would so much as spit on you if you burst into flames?"

Ffon surged forward, clearly intending to strike him, but Khem Val shifted his weight slightly and it was more than enough to keep the other acolyte at bay. Harkun walked over to him, far less threateningly, then all but ripped the map from Alaian's hand. Not that he cared much; he had gotten the map and now there was nothing Harkun could do to stop him from becoming Zash's apprentice.

"I don't know how you got this and I don't care." Harkun's voice was low and dangerous. "I will not allow a disgusting son-of-a-whore to become Sith."

Alaian's smile fell. Not at Harkun's threat but at the old familiar insult. He'd heard that, and other equally as creative jibes, his entire life but he'd been hoping to leave them behind him. The overseer saw his expression change and smirked triumphantly.

"You think I don't know about you Slave? That your birth mother was nothing more than a pleasure slave and that your father cleans the filth of his betters." The Overseer leaned forward, face so close that it took a serious effort to not recoil away. "That you are no better than your whore mother?"

A heady mixture of anger and shame boiled in Alaian. Harkun's words were, of course, utterly true. His mother had been a young mixed-breed girl (Human and Pureblood, or so the story went anyway. Talaa was skeptical and had always thought they were mixed with something less savory.) that his father had engaged in a brief affair with. A year later she'd appeared at his home with two babies, explaining that keeping them was eating into her profits. Oddly enough being pregnant had boosted her work (a thought that made Alaian sick to be honest) but two squealing infants didn't have the same effect.

They knew nothing more of the woman who'd bore them, save that she'd left the gold jewelry Talaa now wore, insisting they were heirlooms of a time when her family had been powerful. She'd been delusional, at best but she didn't appear to have passed any of that on to them, so he wasn't troubled by it. There was far too much to worry about when it came to their birth mother to let insanity trip him up.

It was a sordid tale that he and Talaa hadn't been able to escape. Even though their father's wife, the woman Alaian thought of as his mother, had taken them in and raised them as her own the truth of their birth was on record for anyone who wanted to look. If not for their early signs of force ability they probably would have found themselves in the same profession as their birth mother; Talaa had grown far too stunning and he had ended up far too 'delicate' in build for anything else.

Even with their force sensitivity they'd found themselves being groomed to be slaves, shopped around like pieces of meat from the time they hit puberty. Slaves were being allowed to become acolytes but, at the same time, force sensitive slaves could fetch a hefty sum of credits. Offers had come in but in the end Imperial edict had demanded they head to Dathomir in hopes of becoming acolytes.

Dathomir had been...an experience, to say the least. They'd been singled out as slaves immediately by scornful overseers and shunned by their peers. It was a dangerous place, lacking Korriban's rules against killing your peers, and being friendless and looked down upon had made it that much more dangerous. He had, at times, resorted to things he tried not to dwell on in order to make powerful friends and forge alliances.

Harkun's smirk only grew. His words had hit home and, though Alaian was loath to admit it, he was a little rattled. It was his own fault; he'd let his guard down and allowed himself to believe that what he had come from wouldn't be thrown into his face.

Talaa seemed to be leaving her past behind her; Tremel had kept her low birth to himself and she had yet to be treated as anything except another Pureblood acolyte. It was clear now that he wouldn't be so lucky but, really, could he be surprised? He was here because of what he was, was he not?

"But never mind you. Ffon, you will deliver this personally to Lord Zash." The map changed hands and Alaian sighed. Some people just didn't know when to give up.

He rolled his shoulders, willing the tension there to dissipate then looked up at Khem Val. "I'll take Harkun, you eat Ffon. Be mindful of the map."

Ffon paled slightly and moved closer to Harkun; he seemed to have lost some of his bluster in the face of Khem Val. Harkun also looked a little nervous but clearly wasn't about to back down. Instead he started to reach for his weapon.

"Call your monster off acolyte." Lord Zash's voice made everyone in the room pause. Alaian turned to see the woman striding towards them. She was pretty, with blond hair and dark brown eyes, but she radiated a kind of...nauseating darkness. "I would have a word with Ffon."

Alaian nodded at Khem who made a disappointed noise but remained at his side without protest. Zash flashed him a small smile before turning her attention back to Ffon, who seemed to be physically wilting at the sight of the Sith Lord.

"L-lord Zash." The other acolyte stuttered.

"Yes Ffon. Now, where is my map?" Zash's smile was kind and sweet but her eyes were cold and almost black with anger.

"H-here Lord Zash. Right here." Ffon handed the holodiscs over, sweat beginning to gather at his brow. Alaian watched, a touch of confusion surging forward. Zash was intimidating, yes, but the way Ffon was falling apart was...perhaps a bit over the top.

"You brought me this map for me Ffon? How wonderful." Zash touched the other acolyte's arm gently. Ffon made a small distressed noise in the back of his throat.

"Yes. Yes!"

Alaian scowled; he had the nerve to not just lie but to lie to Lord Zash's face? He would destroy him! More than that, he could flay the skin from his flesh then leave him in the middle of the desert to slowly die! He would-

"Calm yourself acolyte!" Zash snapped, looking back at him and for a moment Alaian saw not the beauty before him but a dark, hunched and withered thing. He blinked, instantly pulling in the rage he hadn't realized he was letting ooze out. "Ffon will tell me what happened, won't you Ffon? You wouldn't lie to me, would you? Because it would be a shame for me to discover that you lied to me. One more time Ffon, did you bring me this map?"

Her tone was light but her words promised pain and suffering. It seemed it was too much for Ffon who began to back away and shake his head violently. "N-n-no. I'm sorry, I didn't bring the map back."

Zash turned to Harkun, eyes blazing with fury. "Harkun you fool! In any other group for any other lord this young man would have torn the other acolytes apart!" Purple lightning began to coalesce in her hand, winding itself into a shimmering ball. "What were you trying to prove? That you could outsmart me! That you knew better than me what I wanted for an apprentice? You fool."

The energy in her hand flew out, striking Ffon in the chest. The acolyte shirked, body bowing with pain, then fell to the ground. He twitched minutely but was very much dead. Harkun stared down at Ffon, face totally blank.

"There is your pet Harkun. Clean this mess up." Zash spat, venom dripping from her words. Then her face changed back to the pleasant woman he'd encountered in the hall earlier and the power she'd been emitting withdrew into her, blinking out of his awareness as if she'd never released it at all. "Apprentice meet me in my chambers immediately."

"As you say." Alaian bowed slightly, not wanting to incur that considerable wrath himself. Zash turned on her heel and left, not glancing back once. Harkun was seething, teeth bared in a snarl.

"This isn't over slave! Without Lord Zash to save you you're nothing. I have connections that will hunt you wherever you go."

Alaian considered the overseer's words for a moment, tilting his head up thoughtfully. Then: "I am looking forward to it. I hope they won't be as disappointing at Ffon was."

Harkun jerked back as if Alaian had physically struck him. "Get out of my sight slave. Your new Master is waiting upstairs."

He was happy to do just that. He was done with Harkun, at least for now, and it was time to move on to better things. He was an apprentice now, finally Sith, and he had a feeling he had more important things to worry about than Harkun's petty threats.

He and Khem Val hurried to Zash's office where she bestowed upon him her very first lightsaber. It felt solid and powerful in his hands, glowing a strange black-yellow color when he powered it up. He'd sworn to cause bloodshed with it wherever he went and Zash had smiled approvingly. It was a simple design and a touch small in his hands, but he was confident he would wield it well.

She'd then given him his next task, traveling to the Imperial Capital so they could begin working on some mystery task. She wouldn't give him more details, claiming there were unfriendly ears in the academy, then had dismissed him.

He wanted to know more but he was also eager to get off of Korriban. Kaas City laid before him, a place he'd never imagined he'd go let alone going as a Sith apprentice. It would be the start of his new life and the sooner it began the better.

"You said I would get to feed." Khem Val grunted, that look that may have been disappointment on his face. They were out of Zash's office now and in the strangely empty hallway. Alaian frowned slightly, considering the promise he'd made to the Dashade in the tomb. With Ffon dead he wasn't sure where he was going to acquire a force user to sate Khem Val's appetite.

"Stop right there slave!" Alaian was broken from his thoughts and found himself confronted with three men. The one in center of the group, the biggest and clearly the leader of the little party, was the one who'd addressed him. "Darth Skotia had a message for you."

"I am Sith and you will address me as such." Alaian bit out, annoyance flaring. He'd been Zash's apprentice for all five minutes and already people who acting as if that meant nothing. "And who the hell is Darth Skotia?"

"Darth Skotia is Lord Zash's superior and your worst nightmare." Alaian may have chuckled at that; this man had no idea the kinds of nightmares he had, but the messenger didn't seem inclined to acknowledge his humor. "The message is you will not go to Dromund Kaas. Everything you've done here and everyone you've encountered, Zash included, is insignificant. Darth Skotia had eyes and ears everywhere and he knows what Zash is up to and he is displeased to say the least."

The messenger moved closer to him, so close he was able to put a finger to Alaian's chest and poke him with each word, clearly meaning to emphasize his point. Alaian just stared, mind going totally blank.

"On Korriban Zash may have her way, but on Dromund Kaas it's a different story. So you see, you have to die."

"I was hoping you'd say that." He made a gesture at Khem Val who took a menacing step forward. The two men who'd been silent so far visibly shrank at the sight. "I know I promised you Ffon, but I hope these three will make up for it."

Khem Val's eyes showed his hunger. "They will do."

0000000000

Talaa left Baras' office feeling fairly pleased with herself. She'd taken her position as his apprentice and no longer had to worry about Vemrin, as he was an oozing pile of flesh back in the tomb, and she was headed for Kaas City. The capital of the Sith Empire, a truly impressive place from what she understood. She had always known she was destined for more than life as a slave and now the whole of the Empire stood before her, waiting for her to step out and grab at the possibilities.

She wanted to find Alaian before she left to see where, if anywhere, he'd be going but after a quick circuit of the academy she found him missing. She felt a touch of sadness as she decided to give up and told Vette they'd be heading to the shuttle station now. The Twi'lek would be coming with her, a gift from Baras to do with as she pleased, and she was unsettled by it. Every time she saw that collar her stomach twisted in a mixture of anger and guilt.

"Isn't that your brother there?" They were walking along the path to the shuttle now. The sun was high in the sky and baring down on them fiercely; just that short walk had Talaa sweating. She would be glad to be rid of this place.

Alaian was standing with Khem Val outside of the shuttle that would take her to fleet. He was speaking to Overseer Ragate about something but still nodded in her direction to acknowledge he'd seen her. Ragate glanced in her direction as well then smiled. It was a nice smile, but rather a dark secretive one. The overseer nodded at Alaian then began to walk away. She held a bag in her hand, a military grade pack by the looks of it, and offered it to Talaa once she was close enough.

"Everything a young Juggernaut will need. Use it wisely child."

With that she was striding away, surprisingly swift for a woman her age. Talaa watched her for a moment, squinting against the sun, then shrugged slightly. She had been seriously considering the words of the woman after the last time they'd met and the Juggernaut path did appeal to her, so it was perhaps best to not dwell on how the overseer had known that.

Alaian had a bag of his own at his feet and was rifling through it with a look of boredom on his face. Then, all at once, his expression changed to one of awe. He withdrew his hand from the bag, bringing with it a large...book.

Talaa blinked. She'd never seen a physical book in her life but she'd heard that written texts did still exist in some places (museums and ancient libraries). To see one was a strange kind of honor. To actually hold one...

"What is it?"

Alaian's fingers drifted over the cover for a moment, eyes hooded. Then he shoved it back into the bag and stood up. "My master wants to meet me on Dromund Kaas."

Talaa smiled, allowing his strange behavior to be forgotten. She trusted him and, beyond that, had no real interest in his book. "Then we will travel there together."

"Sounds great." Vette's voice surprised her; she'd forgotten the Twi'lek was with her. "I mean, nothing like being an alien slave in Kaas City. I can't wait."

Talaa titled her head to the side, hair sliding over her forehead. A sideways glance at her brother found him looking at her expectantly and, with a roll of her eyes, she reached out for Vette. The blue-skinned woman started to shrink away but a glare from Talaa stopped her. She fumbled with the collar for a moment then found the release mechanism. She pushed it then pushed the corresponding button on the remote that had come with Vette. Just using the release on the collar would have blown Vette's head off, which would have been needlessly messy.

There was a swoosh, like the sound of air being released. Vette's eyes widened. She reached up, yanking at the offending piece of metal and making a surprised noise in the back of her throat when it came away easily. She ran her fingers over the skin the collar had been attached to, now a much paler blue than the rest of her.

"I have no use for slaves." Talaa said, not entirely sure she meant it. On the one hand Vette was useful and had proven herself to be capable in the tomb; letting her go may have been a foolish move. However there was also no honor or strength in accepting already caught and tagged prey.

"Oh." Was all Vette said after a long moment. She smiled softly, still letting her fingers drift over her neck. "Mind if I tag along anyway? I hear the Dromund system is great this time of year."

Talaa had a feeling that, in releasing Vette, she'd earned the woman's loyalty. She wasn't sure that Vette's loyalty would be worth much in the long run but, at least for the moment, she wouldn't refuse it. It was likely that a hard path laid ahead of her and having an ally outside of Alaian certainly couldn't hurt her any.

"How sickening." Khem Val grunted. Talaa glowered at the Dashade who was now looking down at her brother with gleaming eyes. "What of you Little Sith? Will you be releasing me?

Alaian blinked slowly. "I just watched you physically eat three men. I would sooner slit my own throat then grant you freedom."

"Eww." Vette muttered while shifting to be just behind Talaa, and out of Khem Val's reach.

Khem Val made a noise that may have been a laugh, a raspy _chuff. "_Then you aren't as stupid as you appear."

Her brother just smiled serenely by way of reply, prompting another laugh from the Dashade. Before anything else could be said the door on the shuttle flipped open and the pilot poked his head out (eyes lingering on Khem Val as the pilot grew dangerously pale) to announce that he was boarding for the Imperial Fleet.

Alaian boarded first, Khem Val at his heels. Talaa started to follow then paused, glancing over her shoulder at the red dusty terrain of Korriban. Acolytes milled about in the valley below her, undergoing their own trials under the hot sun.

She spit into the dirt then ducked into the cool interior of the shuttle, sweat drying on her skin almost immediately. She slid into the seat next to her brother and was reminded of how, a few long days ago, they'd been on their way to Korriban.

They'd come as former slaves and left as Sith.

Talaa settled back in her seat, a strange lightness settling over her. She had no idea what Baras had waiting for her in Kaas city but she was confident she would conquer it.

Or, Talaa added to herself, if she couldn't conquer what lay ahead she was simply destroy it.

~Fin~

The continuation of the Twin's adventures, this time on Dromund Kaas, should appear soon. It will follow the game's story to a degree, but also have it's own added content and misadventures.

I promise: An assassin out to eat Talaa's face, an Imperial Agent Alaian takes a liking to, an Imperial Agent that Khem Val takes a dislike to, and the early introduction of one Malavai Quinn.


End file.
